


Slipping Through the Cracks

by GreenFish



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M, Tumblr Prompts, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2014-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-18 19:04:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2358926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenFish/pseuds/GreenFish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is from a tumblr prompt.  The phrase I had to write a story around was, "Please, put it DOWN."  It's late December and things have fallen apart between Meryl and Maks after the Disson skating show in Bloomington.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slipping Through the Cracks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [footnoterphone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/footnoterphone/gifts).



> Thanks to footnoterphone for the prompt. NO THANKS for making me spend all afternoon writing this.

“Please, put it _down_ ,” he pleaded, reaching helplessly for the large mirrored ball trophy she held over her head.  “C’mon.  You’re going to break it.”

“I don’t _care_ ,” she snapped, her hands shaking as she continued hoisting the heavy object, looking poised to toss it at any moment.  “This … _trophy_ … has been nothing but trouble!”  Her words slurred slightly, and Charlie grabbed for her as soon as he saw her starting to lose her balance, his hand catching her waist tightly. 

Meryl was holding a small New Year’s / birthday party for all of their friends at her condo.  Normally, in a competition year, they would be too busy to have time for random social events.   And although their schedule was still jam-packed with upcoming skating shows and promotional events, they managed to have a three-day period with nothing going on, giving Meryl just enough time to plan an impromptu get-together.  Sure, it wasn’t _actually_ New Year’s, (since they’d been signed up to appear at the New Year’s countdown broadcast in Detroit that coming Wednesday), but _close enough_.  It was the drawback of having a birthday on a holiday, she supposed.  At least she got to do _something_ this year.

The party itself had gone well enough – until now – when the battle between champagne and Meryl had ended, and champagne had won.   She was a maudlin drunk, and was lamenting over the disaster that had been the _Shall We Dance On Ice_ show in Illinois, earlier that month. 

\---

It was supposed to be a _fun_ reunion between the skaters and their Dancing With the Stars partners.  Sharna and Maks had actually flown up to Detroit the Sunday before the show, so they could get a few solid days of practice in for their floor dance numbers.  Meryl and Charlie had already been practicing their ice programs for weeks, already – they’d done the same programs at the Disson Skating and Gymnastics show the week prior to that.  Meryl hadn’t expected any issues with learning the dance; after all, she’d danced with Maks for an entire season of DWTS and won the Mirrorball trophy with him.  (The one that was currently hoisted above her head, to be precise.)

But as soon as he’d arrived in Michigan, they were at odds.  It might have had _something_ to do with the fact that Maks was still (apparently) holding a candle for her, while Meryl had decided to move on.  (She had been out on several dates with a TA from the anthropology department at U of M at that point in time.)  Upon hearing the news, though, his attitude with Meryl completely shifted.  No matter what Meryl did, it wasn’t good enough.  Charlie and Sharna were rehearsing in the same space, and at one point, Meryl ran out into the hallway in tears, with Sharna chasing after her.  Charlie had merely shot Maks a dirty look, before following the girls out to see if there was anything he could do.

The fact of the matter was; Charlie hadn’t wanted to get involved in the whole thing.  Yes, he was Meryl’s friend, but her private life was _her_ life, and unless she was asking him for help, he didn’t think it was his place to do anything.  Still, it had irritated him watching Maks act so harshly towards her.

 She was working so hard, but she and Maks weren’t quite _clicking_.   Still, Meryl was nothing if not a hard worker, and she pushed them, long past the hours that Sharna and Charlie practiced, to get it _right_.

By the time they flew down to Bloomington, several days later, their dance was pretty much on note.  Meryl was in a good mood, joking with Tanith on the flight down about the costumes for their on ice group number.  When they arrived through, and started the dress rehearsals, everything turned sour again.  The ice programs were fine, of course - her and Charlie were nothing, if not consistent - but her floor dance with Maks was a _disaster_. 

They were doing an overhead lift, and she knew, as soon as he lifted her, that they weren’t positioned right.  She tried to correct herself at the same time he did, causing him to almost drop her.  He had cursed loudly, in front of everyone, and told her that she needed to learn how to _control her core better_ so that she wouldn’t end up in the wrong position.  She’d shot back that if he’d _squared his shoulders,_ he wouldn’t have almost dropped her, and that she was trying to account for _his_ mistake.

“Fuck this,” he had snapped, storming off.  “I’ll be back in time for the performance.  Don’t fuck that up, OK?”

Again, Meryl was almost in tears, this time with Marina Anissina on her right and Tanith on her left, offering her a bottle of water and a tissue.  “It will be _fine_ ,” Marina said in her heavily accented English.  “Gwendal and I, we fight constantly.   You will have a good performance.” 

Meryl shook her head.  “ _Merci_ ,” she responded softly, “but I don’t think it’s that easy.  He’s … bitter.”

Tanith shook her head.  “He’s a bitter little fuck, all right,” she smirked.  “He thinks every woman’s just going to drop her pants for him, and when Meryl told him where he could go stick it, he couldn’t handle it.”  She turned to Meryl.  “Screw him.  You do your dance, you do the best you can, and don’t sweat the rest.  You know your ice programs will be great.”

“Yeah,” Meryl said, as Marina rubbed her back.  Meryl smiled.  “It’ll be fine.”

But, it _wasn’t_ exactly fine. 

Maks _again_ , during the actual performance, almost dropped her, and after that, the rest of the dance was slightly off rhythm.  Maybe not enough for the audience to notice, but the following day, he went on a comment tirade on Instagram, making sure all of his followers knew that he and Meryl definitely _weren’t_ dating. _“She’s not the ‘dating type,’’_ he also commented online, much to her chagrin.

After her management made a few frantic calls to his management, the comments were deleted, but given the nature of the internet, everything had already been screen-capped (according to Alex Shibutani, who kept on top of that sort of thing), and the fans were “going nuts over it.” 

It was two weeks later, and people _still_ wouldn’t stop leaving her comments about them on her Instagram and Twitter.  At first, the fans had mostly been surprised and shocked, but quickly, some of them turned nasty, accusing her of being a whore, a cock-tease, and _worse_.  She’d told herself not to worry about it.  Her family assured her the same thing.  These people didn’t know her personally; she was her own person, and her private life was her own.

And she’d been _fine_ , until today.

_\---_

With surprising strength, Meryl wrestled out of Charlie’s grip, and launched herself at the back door, where she managed to unlock the sliding door that led out onto her porch.  Charlie watched, transfixed, as she slammed the trophy onto the ground, and flung open the heavy door.  The few stragglers left at the party groaned at the rush of cold, snowy air, but Meryl responded, “Shut up!  This _needs_ to be done!” and proceeded to throw the mirrored trophy _outside_ , into a nearby bank of snow.  She quickly slammed the door shut, wiping her hands together in a sweeping motion.

“You just-- threw your Mirrorball trophy outside,” Charlie said, laughing incredulously.  “How drunk _are_ you?” 

She shot him a withering look.  “Not that drunk,” she said, poking her finger into his chest roughly. 

“Ow!” he protested.  “Listen, I think we should get you some water.”

“Water!” she exclaimed.  “Yes.  Tap water is _sexy_ , Charlie,” she grinned, following him into the kitchen.  “You should give me tap water.  It’s good enough for me.  Tap water is good for everyone!”

“I’m sure it is,” he said shaking his head indulgently, as he pulled a Brita pitcher out of her fridge and filled up a large plastic cup with _Arctic Edge FSC_ printed on it.  He handed it over and she carefully held onto it with two hands.

“This is tap water, right?  ‘Cause tap water is sexy!”

“Yeah,” he said, chuckling.  “It goes right from the tap into here,” he explained, tapping the top of the pitcher before putting it away.  After a pause, he waggled his eyebrows.  “How’s your sexy water?” he asked, his hand finding the small of her back as he led her out of the kitchen. 

“Very… sensual,” Meryl said, turning to him with pursed lips.  But she paused as she did so, suddenly fascinated by the sharp edge of Charlie’s jaw, contrasted with the soft curve of his cheekbone. 

She said, “You know what’s _weird?_   Your face looks so different from the side than it does straight on!  Like, you’re so round from the front, but so – angular, from the side.”  She giggled, covering her mouth.

Charlie pretended to look indignant.  “What are you trying to say?” he asked, trying to look serious, before breaking out into a smile. 

“Nothing,” Meryl said, stopping.  He stopped next to her, his hand still resting lightly on her back.  She bit on the corner of her lip.  “I’m just …” She looked up at him again.  “I think I had too much champagne,” she said, stumbling over the last word.

Charlie laughed again.  “You think?” he asked.  “You can’t even say ‘champagne.’”

“Cham- _pagne_ ,” she tried again.  “ _Champagne_.”  Each time it came out slightly garbled, and she gave up, throwing her hands up in the air, and splashing water on them both as she did so. 

“Whoa, whoa, careful there,” Charlie said, reaching over to grab her cup.  “You almost spilled that everywhere.  You gave us both a little shower, at least.”

“Good, because I think I was dirty,” Meryl said, frowning.  “I usually take a shower at night.”

“OK, then…” Charlie said, trailing off.

She frowned again.  “I’m tired, Charlie.  I think I need to go to bed.”

“Oh,” Charlie said, surprised.  “Yeah, you probably should.  I bet you’ll feel better if you get a good night’s sleep.  Do you want to, um …”  He looked around, gesturing lightly at the few people who were still at the party. 

Tanith had already gone home a couple hours ago, to let the dogs out, and Charlie told her he’d meet her later.  Mostly now, it was Meryl’s friends and – he thought he’d spied Bates hitting on one of her friends, but it appeared the party was winding down.  He pulled his phone out of his pocket. 

1:30 a.m.

 _Whoa_ , he thought.  It was pretty late for him, considering he usually turned in no later than 10:30.  It was a habit left over from his competing days, when they’d be up by 5:30 in the morning to train.  Nowadays, he didn’t usually have to be up that early, but the dogs had gotten used to being let out in the morning, and besides, if he woke up early, he got to see Tanith before she went off to the rink for work, which he liked if he wasn’t planning on being there.

Charlie imagined Meryl had to be tired, too.  He often caught her at the gym above the rink early in the morning, and she’d admitted that she still woke up at 4:30 every morning, just as she used to when they were training, too.

“I want to sleep now,” she murmured, leaning into Charlie’s side.   “Can you take me up?”

Charlie glanced around the room again, but no one was really paying attention, so he shrugged and led her over to the stairway, where she eyed the steep stairs with skepticism. 

“Can you – walk up?” he asked, tilting his head to look at her. 

She bit her lip again.  “I dunno,” she said, rolling her head back onto his shoulder, cracking her neck.  “I’m so…”

Charlie made a noise in the back of his throat, and with a flourish of his arm, swept her up so he was holding her, wedding style.  “Jeez, Meryl,” he grunted, pretending like she was heavy, as he trotted up the stairs.  As always, though, she felt like almost nothing in his arms.  “You really need a first floor bedroom.”

“Yeah, like you’re not used to holding me,” she shot back.

“On the ice,” he grunted again, pushing open the door to her bedroom.  Just as he would have expected, it was immaculate.  He never understood that; why girls felt the need to clean the bedrooms for a party – it wasn’t like people were going to be _hanging out_ in the bedrooms.   But just like Tanith would have, Meryl had probably spent _days_ getting the house in order, including her own bedroom, which looked like a picture from a magazine, complete with 20,000 pillows on her bed. 

Shifting so he could hold onto her with one arm, he swept a pile of the decorative pillows aside, and pulled back the heavy comforter and top sheet, laying her down. 

“I don’t understand why you women need all these pillows if you’re just going to take them off to sleep,” he grumbled, pulling the rest of the pillows off and setting them in a pile on a nearby chaise lounge. 

“They look pretty!” Meryl called out.  “And … they’re good for when I wanna read on the bed.”

“Hm,” Charlie conceded, coming back to sit on the edge of the bed.  “You have a point there.”  He pushed the sheet and blanket up and over her, nodding.  “You good now?”

She pouted, and shook her head slowly.  “I don’t want to sleep in my dress.”

“Um,” Charlie said, glancing at the door.  He felt a sense of dread starting to build up in his stomach, but pushed the feeling back as he went over to shut it.  “OK.  So…”

She sat up and leaned forward, rolling her head around her shoulders.  “Can you – help me undo the zipper?”

Involuntarily, he made a small noise in his throat as he stepped over to her bedside, hesitantly.  He knew it wasn’t like he was going to _do_ anything, and he’d seen Meryl, well, completely naked, plenty of times – it was part of being an ice skater, especially when you were doing shows, you often had to change quickly.  And costumers had no patience for modesty, so he’d quickly learned that nudity wasn’t a big deal. 

Still, something felt different now.  He ignored the slight stirring in his pants as he reached for the top of the zipper.  Slowly he pulled it down, again ignoring the slight shiver that went down Meryl’s spine as he did so.  He couldn’t help but notice the lace on the back of her bra matched the lace on her underwear – which looked – if he was being honest – _entirely too tiny_. 

It was the kind of underwear that reminded him of the dance belts he had to wear for skating, making you feel like you were walking around with a wedgie all night.  He preferred to wear full coverage himself, if he had the choice.  But girls – well, he had firsthand knowledge, from living with Tanith, of the crazy things girls did for vanity. 

“Thanks,” she said softly, and to his slight surprise (but not really), she swung her legs around, and propping her butt up, slipped the dress the rest of the way off. 

Charlie didn’t mean to, but he found himself staring at her, wondering what the front side of her underwear looked like. 

It didn’t disappoint.  The lace was beautiful and elaborate, and also sheer, giving him full view of her tiny, dark pink nipples pressing firmly against the fabric.  Her underwear was equally sheer, giving him full view of the fact that she was, eh, _very well groomed_ down there.  _Holy fuck,_ he thought. 

He felt his dick starting to strain against his jeans, and cursing under his breath, he stuck his hand in his pocket to try and subtly adjust himself.  He cleared his throat to distract her from watching him. 

“I wore this, hoping that maybe Jason might show up,” Meryl whispered.  Jason was the TA she’d been on a couple dates with, but they hadn’t gotten together since she went down to Bloomington.  Finding times to meet up had been increasingly hard, apparently.  Meryl had told him earlier in the night that she expected they’d both moved on at this point, and that it probably wouldn’t have worked out, anyway. 

But obviously, some part of her had hoped she still had a chance.

Charlie didn’t say anything, but stood next to the bed, his knees pressing up against the edge of the mattress, forcing himself to swallow.  His mouth felt dry. 

“I knew he wouldn’t come, though,” Meryl continued.  “I think I always knew that.  Just like I knew nothing would ever come of me and Maks.”

“Yeah,” Charlie said, with a slight sigh. 

“When it comes down to it, you’re the only man who’s consistently been in my life, all these years.”

“Meryl,” Charlie started.

“No, I mean – I know, you’re um – I mean, I’m not… “  She swung her knees behind her, propping herself up on her hands.  “I just mean, you know, you’re my friend, and you’ve always been there for me.  You know?”

“Meryl,” Charlie said again.  The thing was, she wasn’t _trying_ to tempt him, he _really_ didn’t think so.  But he couldn’t stop stealing glances at her in that matching underwear, with those perfectly taut abs, and that smooth, porcelain skin, and –

With a sharp intake of breath, and against all better judgment, he bent forward quickly, taking both sides of her face in his hands, and pressed his lips roughly against hers.  He felt her gasp underneath him, and almost immediately after that, she moaned gently as she responded in turn.  Her lips moved over his, exploring him as her mouth opened to his and his tongue swept against hers, dancing over the tip, making her moan again, more loudly this time. 

His hands slid down her sides while hers wrapped tightly around his middle, pulling him into her as she stood up on her knees, pressing her center into his.  This time, he moaned lightly, feeling his dick twitch at the movement.  His hands swept up and down her body, his hands running over her bare skin, her silky hair cascading down her back, it felt amazing coursing through his fingers, and he was so full of her in that moment, so …

“Fuck,” he breathed out, leaning back.  “What are we--?”

Meryl swallowed, looking down.  “You were just – I think you just kissed me,” she murmured, her breath heavy and slow.  Her lips parted slightly, swollen and wet, she looked up at him, her eyes meeting his. 

“We, um.”  Charlie looked down, letting out a slow breath through his nose.  He ran the back of his hand gently along Meryl’s face as he eased himself off the bed.  “I shouldn’t have, um…”

Meryl nodded, her eyes settling back on his lips.  He saw this and knew she was thinking about their kiss, and probably how she wanted to kiss him again.  She _had_ to know how much he wanted to kiss her again, he thought.  He had a raging fucking boner still.  _Fuck_. 

He forced himself to concentrate.  He needed to be the responsible, he reminded himself.

“Listen.  We need to, um, get you in bed.”  He gestured for her to lie back, and she did as he instructed, allowing him to cover her with the sheets and comforter again.  “Are you OK?” he asked, once she was settled in.

She looked up at him, nodding slightly, her eyes wide.  “Are we, um – OK?” she asked suddenly.  “I don’t, um… I mean.”

Charlie smiled, but felt the heat rushing up into his cheeks, suddenly mortified about what had happened.  _How many years of control, only to lose it now?_   He was _better_ than that.  Meryl deserved better than that.  And Tanith –

 _Shit_.

“Yeah, no, um – I mean, just between us, yeah, we’re, um.”

“Yeah, of course,” Meryl said immediately.

He leaned over, placing a soft kiss on her forehead, lingering there for a second before drawing away.  Her scent lingered in his nostrils, taking over his senses, and he closed his eyes briefly.

“I love you, Charlie,” she whispered.  “Thank you … for taking care of me.”

He smiled again, but with a tinge of sadness resting in his gut.  “Of course,” he said.  His knuckles lightly grazed her cheek.  “I love you, too,” he said softly, before turning to step out of the room, closing the door quietly.    


End file.
